#Like hi hello I see Johanna as a lesbian

[nualaofthefaerie]

Hi!! I've been thinking about the femslash event so I'm curious, are there any characters that you'd like to see with/ship with Nuala during the femslash event? If other people want to make Nuala femslash stuff, do you have any ideas or recs?

Hello 🪷,

I am looking forward to participate in the femslash! as well!

Well, Nuala is a pansexual character and as all are well aware, I am mostly shipping her with Morpheus (any gender Morpheus).

Nuala and Lucien were a couple in "the Dreaming" and the thought of NualaxLucienne is a very plausible WLW in my books.

I feel I have zero right to tell people about what ships are acceptable. I know I am the Nuala presides, but I can't tell what people should like. As long as she is not put in a situation that grossly misinterprets her character, you will never hear me complain.

Some WLW ships of the Sandman that I endorse to a variable degree:

Nuala x Lady Morpheus (SapphicFlower) - Lady Morpheus is a separate canonical version of Morpheus so I think they are different to Sandflower. Dynamic wise as well. I think Lady Morpheus, which unlike our Morpheus is not self-destructive, recognizes the pretty fairy with the kind tone and she dotes on her greatly.

Nuala x Lucienne - It is technically canon, but also not really. But I like it a lot, I think they gather flowers and read together.

!!! Bast x Johanna (big ship of mine) - very obscure and crackship, but if anyone has the time, I will go into detail why those are LESBIANS!

!!! Wanda x Death (big ship of mine) - second pair of extremely important for my mental health LESBIANS!

!!! Lyta x Calliope - the MOTHERSHIP. IF YOU GET IT, YOU GET IT. IF YOU DON'T...try.

As to where to read about any WLW Nuala ships, there isn't any. Almost all written Nuala content, with the exception of I believe two, is written by me. There is a very big Sandflower Project that is taking the majority of my time in the last four months and will probably continue for the next at least six, so I do not have the free time to write as much free form as I want.

However, I do most ARDENTLY hope that a lot of people will participate in the femslash and will write about Nuala, Lucienne, Johanna, Lucifer, Foxglove, Hazel, Barbie, Nada, Death, Desire, Despair, Titania, Alianora, Lyta, Calliope, Rose, Wanda, Chantal, Zelda, Gault. We have so many beautiful WOMEN and Non-binary femme representation to write and celebrate!

If I can help with anything else, my asks are always open! <3

Love,

Li 🪷

#the sandman #nuala #nuala of the faerie #the sandman netflix #nuala the sandman #fluff #the sandman comics #femslash #wlw #sapphic #Li answers

[saltpepperbeard]

Okay y’all let’s just...I see some nasty accusations being thrown around in just a small little bit of perusing. And I just wanted to offer my further two cents on this entire situation, as well as open up a respectful and open discussion should people choose. I’m going to be addressing a few points I keep seeing, especially those that are seemingly getting lost in translation.

First of all, let’s talk headcanons/canon. Fandom space is indeed a place of meta, and textual analysis, and everything of the like. But also, it’s for expanding upon those views, and even shifting those views around for self-enjoyment/play. It’s meant to be a place where people can take their favorite characters/stories and place them into an entirety of different scenarios/

Which is where things like headcanons and AU come into play. Some people may choose to see Katniss as Native American. Some people may choose to see Peeta with a brother named Rye. Some people may choose to have Katniss and Peeta have four-five babies as opposed to the textually stated two. 

Some things grow more popular and are excepted as a sort of “collective headcanon,” or fanon, while others stay pretty centric to a few people. Where problems start to arise however, is when people challenge another’s headcanon based upon their own beliefs. Which is, unfortunately, what I seem to be seeing a lot of. In case you’re unaware, an author decided to portray/picture Peeta as bisexual, and was met with a multitude of backlash because of it.

But why? Did Suzanne Collins ever directly state “Peeta Mellark, a boy of sixteen, a baker, and a heterosexual.” And even if she did, doesn’t fandom allow for expansion beyond that? If people are allowed to name Peeta and Katniss’ children and have it be widely accepted, as well as play around with their backgrounds, their family, their personalities/likes/dislikes, why not sexuality?

Now, a point I’ve seen repeatedly brought up is along the lines of, “Well, this author claims that if you don’t like bisexual Peeta then you must be bi/homophobic.” And similar claims along the lines of, “This author is forcing us to think that way.” And like...y’all I don’t think that’s the case whatsoever? I of course don’t want to put words in anyone’s mouth, but I’m reading the situation very differently. I believe the point being made is more along the lines of...if you have an issue with a character being portrayed as bisexual/homosexual/pansexual/anything else other than heterosexual, then you might need to look at yourself a bit more. It’s more so in defense of character representation than it is indoctrination. And it’s more so arguing in defense of headcanons/interpretations being a genuine fandom element than it is shaming those who disagree.

Because, as a gay woman, it’s very disheartening to see a headcanon regarding sexuality get attacked so harshly. And you know what? I personally don’t envision Peeta or Katniss with any sort of label period, because I predominantly focus on their relationship/their dynamic. But that’s not to say others can’t see them differently, and create something that’s important to them. I for one think it’s interesting- and important, to see so many different headcanons/interpretations around.

And I may not agree with all of them, which I don’t, but that’s fine! It’s just like fanfiction, and the lovely notion of: don’t like don’t read. Allow people their space, allow people their interpretations, allow people the representation they’d like to see, and continue the fandom space as it should be. Aka, a place of free-flowing, collective, and respectful ideas.

#Jodi rambles #*WRITES AN ESSAY #**GETS TIRED SJDLSHDLK #you know i had to do it to 'em #I see drama and I WRITE LMAO #I SPIN TALES #LGBT #Like y'all #I'm so tired Katniss #Like hi hello I see Johanna as a lesbian #And am actually leaning towards picturing Katniss as bi or pan or demi #And Peeta being bi/pan/whatever doesn't bother me whatsoever #Like jsdklsjdls as long as it's not OFFENSIVE? I think people interpreting characters however they see fit is??? FINE ACTUALLY????? #'BUT SUZANNE MADE THEM STRAIGHT >:(' Did she though? #Did she name Willow and Rye while we're at it? #Did she say Katniss and Peeta messed around like rabbits Post Mockingjay? #Did she name Peeta's brother Rye? #Did she specify Katniss and Peeta's middle names? #Did she reveal Peeta's birthday? #See what I'm getting at here? #There are SO many things that the fandom has interpreted #And so many things that we've envisioned #So why should it stop at sexuality? #Do y'all see why that kind of hurts people/makes them defensive? #Do y'all see why that makes people feel as though people are being biphobic/homophobic? #Because to my knowledge #You don't see people getting mad about someone naming a toastbaby 'Fyre' when a lot of people picture her as 'Willow' #And ALSO I've really not seen anyone get mad at people for portraying Peeta as unchaste before meeting Katniss so that's some tea #But I digress #The Discourse TM

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: The Real Housewives of Storybrooke (19/?)

A fic based on this premise here, following the lives of Storybrooke’s elite wives, with all the scandal, bitching and backstabbing that goes on behind the scenes of high society…

This verse is open for prompts!

====

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [Nine] [Ten] [Eleven] [Twelve] [Thirteen] [Fourteen] [Fifteen] [Sixteen] [Seventeen] [Eighteen] [AO3]

====

Nineteen

MARY MARGARET

“Stop curtain-twitching.”

“I’m not curtain-twitching!”

David raised an eyebrow and Mary Margaret sighed, coming away from the window and sitting down on the sofa beside him. Emma and Bae were out on their first official date as boyfriend and girlfriend, and although she was anxious to see their return, that was not the reason why she was looking out of the window every five minutes - especially since the two teenagers had only just left and were not expected back for at least another three hours. 

“I’m just curious,” she said eventually. 

“There’s a difference between curious and nosy. Don’t go giving the new neighbours the wrong impression now.”

“I know that.” Mary Margaret looked over her shoulder towards the window again, where three doors down a removal van was unloading several items of furniture into a house that had lain empty for months. Even from this distance, Mary Margaret could tell that whoever was moving in was not short of money. Well, moving to a town like Storybrooke always guaranteed a certain degree of affluence since property prices were so astronomically high - and if Belfrey Developments managed to get a foothold then they would sky-rocket once again. 

Hopefully, that wouldn’t happen. The end was so close that Mary Margaret could almost touch it. Just a few more bits of paperwork to sign and then they would be home and dry. Gold was confident that it would all go smoothly, but Mary Margaret couldn’t help fearing that something might happen to throw a spanner in the works at the last minute. 

Being curious about the new neighbours was helping to take her mind off it all, and she said as much to David.

“All right then, I take your point. But there’s no need to be so furtive about it. You can just go out there and introduce yourself, you know. Ask them if they need to borrow a cup of sugar or something like that.”

“Well, that’s the thing. I don’t think that the people moving in are actually there. It’s just removal men at the moment.” She went back over to the window and peered around the corner. “There’s certainly no-one standing around looking like they’re supervising and fretting about large vases being broken. There are some very impressive large vases though.”

Curiosity finally overcoming him, David came over to the window and stood beside his wife, appraising the furniture being unloaded. 

“I’m not quite sure how they’ve managed to fit all that into the truck,” he observed, just as a second truck pulled up, followed by a sleek white sports car that certainly gave Gold’s Cadillac a run for its money in the ‘most ostentatious car in the town’ stakes. 

“I think they’ve arrived,” David said mildly. “If you stop gawping long enough, you can go and say hello to them when you go out to take Neal round to Mulan and Rory’s.”

A couple got out of the car, and Mary Margaret knew immediately that they would fit right in amongst Storybrooke’s elite. Everything about their appearance screamed of the very best that money could buy. 

She couldn’t get a very good look, but she thought that they were a younger couple, perhaps just starting out. She turned away from the window with a little reluctance, going to get Neal ready for his playdate with Philip. Not that it was really a playdate; both boys were too young to do much other than sit in a play pen with various stuffed animals and soft building blocks and chew things, but it was always nice to get out of the house and meet up with friends, as opposed to the trips out of the house that took her into the office. Mary Margaret would be glad when it was all over, and she could get back to ignoring the company and focussing more on being a mother again. 

That said, though, having seen first-hand what had gone on behind her back whilst she had been on maternity leave - and if she was being honest, then it had probably been going on for a lot longer than that - something made her want to keep a much closer eye on things from now on. She was definitely going to be keeping a much closer eye on Sidney. Maybe she could delegate to Johanna and get regular reports without having to actually go in and see them all. 

At last they were ready to leave the house. Mary Margaret didn’t know what it was about babies that meant they came with so much paraphernalia, but it had been just the same with Emma. Going out always took twice as long when strollers and diaper bags and everything else had to be taken into account, but Mary Margaret would never regret any of it. 

David leaned in and kissed her cheek as she pushed the stroller out of the front door. 

“I’ll see you later. See if you can find out about the new neighbours without resorting to peering in through the front window.”

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes, but she would be lying if she said that exact thought had not already occurred to her. 

She pushed the stroller slowly down the street. Given that half of the house’s furnishings were sitting in the driveway or on the sidewalk whilst they were unloaded, she felt that she was justified in doing a bit of rubbernecking. 

The couple were nowhere to be seen, the removal men doing most of the work bringing things in off the street, so Mary Margaret hung around for a while on the pretence of either admiring the gleaming white Ferrari or waiting for a large marble sculpture that could only be described as a particularly abstract example of abstract art to be moved out of her way. 

After a few moments, the young woman who had been in the car came to the door, and on seeing Mary Margaret standing there, gave a nervous and tentative little wave. 

Mary Margaret waved back cheerfully. 

“Welcome to the neighbourhood,” she called. “I’m Mary Margaret, I live at number three.”

The woman didn’t respond, instead hurrying back inside the house, leaving Mary Margaret standing on the sidewalk, extremely puzzled by what had gone on. 

Maybe she was just incredibly shy, but all the same…

She shook off the feeling that something wasn’t quite right, accepted that the specimen of statuary wasn’t going to be moved any time soon, and manoeuvred the stroller around it, making the short journey across the town to her destination.

Mary Margaret did feel a little embarrassed on entering Mulan and Rory’s house to find that it was nowhere near as chaotic as her own was. She tried to justify the mess by considering the fact that she also had a teenager living in the house as well as two adults and a baby, but Emma had never really been that untidy. Well, no untidier than she and David were. She would have thought that owning a multi-million-dollar company would have made her more organised but given the chaos that seemed to follow her through her professional life as well as her personal one, maybe it was just destiny. 

“So, what’s been happening whilst I’ve been getting bored out of my mind in meetings and trying to stop the board members from fleecing me?” she asked, once they were all settled with refreshments and the two babies were playing happily on the carpet with soft toys. She had already heard a lot of the local gossip from David and from her other friends, but Mulan and Rory, being new to the town, always had a different perspective.

“Well, David’s been causing quite a stir bringing Neal to the mother and baby group.” Mulan grinned. “First lesbians, now fathers. I think Ashley’s beginning to see it as a sign of the end times, and she’ll hole up in a bunker soon.”

Rory laughed. “It couldn’t happen to a nicer person.”

“With any luck, maybe she’ll take Zelena with her,” Mary Margaret muttered. 

“Other than that, not much is new. We’re just plodding along with our lives. I’m sure that you’ve got much more exciting news than we have.”

Mary Margaret smiled. “Well, the paperwork is nearly signed and sealed. I just have to hope that no one does something fatal at the last minute. I mean, Gold’s done the best he can to make sure that every single possible loophole has been covered. We’re exploiting enough of them ourselves to try and get this done, after all. But I can’t help thinking that someone’s going to pull something out of the woodwork.”

“Well, we’ll just have to hope that your trusty legal advisor will get you out of any scrapes.” Mulan paused. “I don’t know all that much about Gold other than the fact he owns most of the town.”

“Oh, he’s absolutely terrifying when you first meet him, but he’s a good guy once you get to know him. He’s a very devoted husband and father. I didn’t think that cute would ever be a word I would use to describe him, but he and Belle are ridiculously cute together.” She thought back to the gala the previous weekend. Despite all the drama that had occurred around Belle and Gold, they had shrugged it all off like water off a duck’s back, and it had been nice to see them dancing together, happy and relaxed, especially knowing that Belle did not always enjoy such social occasions.

Remembering Belle’s usual tension at big events brought Mary Margaret’s mind full circle again to her new neighbours and the unusual shyness she had seen earlier in the day.

“We have new people moving in on our street today,” she said by way of restarting the conversation. “They’ve only just arrived, so we don’t know anything about them.”

Rory raised an eyebrow. “Somehow I sense a ‘but’.”

“What? No, no, no buts.”

Rory remained unconvinced and Mary Margaret sighed. “Ok, ok. But I just get the impression that there’s something not quite right about them.”

Rory and Mulan looked at each other, digesting this statement for a moment.

“I know, I know, I’ve only seen them for about ten seconds, and moving house is a very stressful business during which no one is ever in their right mind, but still… you know when you get a gut feeling about something?”

Rory nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Still, I’m sure you’ll find out more about them sooner or later.”

Mary Margaret nodded, but even so, there was something about the newcomers that she couldn’t put out of her mind.

#OUAT fanfiction #Mary Margaret Blanchard #David Nolan #Snowing #Sleeping Warrior #Fic: The Real Housewives of Storybrooke

[mollymauk-teafleak]

A very very happy Christmas to my lovely girlfriend @spiky-lesbian, I’m so lucky to have you, I hope you like this!

------

Being a father made Vax think of his mother.

Not that he didn’t think of her often already, whenever he’d heard the song she used to sing come on the radio around Midwinter, whenever he’d need something from the back of his closet and find the scarf she nearly always wore, whenever something small and fleeting would bring the grief rushing back so hard it would turn his airways to cement and he’d choke on it for days.

But now every time he’d hold his daughters close, feel them tuck up small and rest their little heads under his chin, every time their eyes would brighten when they saw him, every time they’d look for him when something scared them, he’d think of her. Of how she’d done this for him. Of how she’d felt the same intense rush of love, the dizzying sensation of knowing you’d do anything to protect them, the ache of the impermanence of it all when it had become your oxygen.

Vax thanked the gods for her every day. Without her, the living proof that it could be done, that such a deep and desperate love could be picked up and carried around every day, he had no idea how he would have managed.

Sometimes the thread was so strong in his mind, he could feel her next to him, the warmth she’d always seemed to radiate, the smell of clean cotton and soap. He could feel her hand on his shoulder when he’d sing her namesake back to sleep, whenever she’d fuss in the night, when he’d kiss the many bumps and bruises Johanna collected as she grew up.

He could feel her hand in his hair, fingers stroking through the strands like she used to do when she could sense something on his mind, when he realised he wanted another one.

That was how Frederickstein von Musel Klossowski De Rolo IV arrived, five years after his sisters.

A second child was different to the first. It was like dancing a dance you already knew the steps to but every so often the music would get faster or slower without warning and you’d put a foot wrong. But it was no less exciting, heartbreaking, joyous and exhausting in equal measures.

Now Freddy, nicknamed that way because Vax maintained a child didn’t need a name that took longer to say than they’d been alive, was just over two. He had big blue eyes like his papa and fluffy black curls like his daddy, he was shyer than his sister Johanna but loved to follow her around devotedly and he was in love with reading as his sister Elaina, who read to him every night.

Right now he was sat on the living room rug, the afternoon sun forming a warm little puddle of gold around him, burbling an approximation of an engine noise as he rolled a toy tractor back and forth.

Vax exhaled sadly, feeling that phantom hand on his shoulder again, “He isn’t going to like it.”

“No,” Percy sounded equally defeated beside him, “But he needs them or it will just keep being a problem for him. Damn the shitty eyesight genes in my family.”

Vax nudged him with an elbow, already well aware of where his husband’s mind would be, “This isn’t your fault.”

Percy gave a grunt that was neither assent nor refusal. He anxiously passed the long, thin box from hand to hand restlessly before starting into the room.

Freddy looked up when he heard them come in, smiling his adorable gap toothed smile, “Papa! Daddy!”

“Hello there, little man,” Percy knelt on the carpet beside him, “Got your tractor?”

“Yep!” Freddy waved it in one pudgy fist, “Playing farm.”

“That’s great,” Vax smiled softly, “Can we talk to you about something?”

Freddy seemed to sense the more grown up tone in his voice, looking up curiously, giving a little nod.

They’d noticed it in small ways. How Freddy never seemed sure who was coming into the room, how as a little baby he’d sob until he was picked up, only when held close seeing that it was his dads and he didn’t have anything to worry about. How he would screw his fists against his eyes until they were red. How he seemed unable to follow things when they moved in front of his eyes.

Pike had recommended a trip to the pediatrician who’d passed them on to an optician that specialised in infants. Freddy had seen it as a fun trip, he’d got to sit in a special chair and a nice drow man had asked him to look at a few things and then given him a treat.

And now they had to convince a two year old that was already sensitive to textures and sensations to wear a pair of glasses.

“We’ve got you a present,” Vax explained, taking the box from Percy, “A present that will help you.”

At the mention of a present, Freddy got excited, “Aminals for my farm?”

“Animals,” Percy corrected, smiling, thinking privately that if this didn't go well, a whole fleet of farm animals might be in order, “And no, this is something else. Lets try them on.”

The little blue glasses came on a rubbery band to stretch around his head and keep them in place. Almost as soon as they fixed in place, tucked in amongst his curls and over his slightly pointed ears, Freddy’s face crumpled.

“Don’t like them,” he mumbled, little fingers scrabbling at them.

“It’ll take some getting used to,” Percy looked fretful, his worst fear about this coming true in front of him, “But you’ll see…”

“No,” Freddy’s voice took on that dangerous, wobbly ‘I’m about to full on tantrum and there’s no avoiding it’ quality, “No, don’t like! Gone please. Gone please!”

“Hey, little bud, its okay,” Vax said softly, seeing the panic on his face.

Percy scrambles for something positive, “Love, look. I wear glasses, see? They’re not so bad once you get used to them and then we’ll match.” He reached behind his ears and made his own delicate, gold rimmed glasses bounce in the way that never failed to make them laugh when they were babies.

But Freddy seemed past even that, his rounded cheeks flushed red, upset and angry, “No. Don’t want to, don’t want to match!”

Percy clearly tried very hard not to look wounded at that, hands dropping to his sides and leaving his glasses sitting on his nose all wrong. He tried.

Vax winced internally and gently removed the glasses, “Okay, we’ll try wearing them for little bits at a time and help you get used to them, alright?”

Freddy pouted the way only a two year old could, sinking down into an angry little stormcloud of himself. Percy tried to reach out and bring him into a cuddle but he shrugged him off, mumbling a no under his breath.

Vax took Percy’s hand, knowing his husband would break throwing himself against that particular brick wall again and again. Handing him a problem, particularly an emotional one, with no solution but to wait, was like taking away his hands. So firmly but gently, he picked Percy up off the floor and took him back through to the kitchen.

“I...I hate when this happens,” he eventually mumbled miserably, once a steaming mug of tea had been put in his hands.

“When what happens?” Vax looked over his shoulder from where he was washing the spoon, “Our kids throw tantrums every five seconds practially?”

“No,” Percy groaned, “When they suddenly grow up so a hug isn’t enough to fix their problems any more. It happens so fast, just...just when your back is turned. And suddenly it’s not enough.”

Vax felt a tug deep in his chest and the faint impression of a hand on his shoulder that wasn’t really there. Of course he understood, of course he hated it too.

“Now don’t go all maudlin and philosophical on me,” he murmured, coming over and resting his head on Percy’s chest, wrapping his arms around his waist, “We knew this was going to be tricky but it’s nothing we’ve done wrong. We just have to try something new to help him.”

“Yeah…” Percy sat his mug on the counter behind him so he could throw himself into the embrace, clutching him the way he clearly needed to just for a moment.

And then Percy suddenly seemed to stiffen, like something had grabbed him. He disentangled himself and Vax saw that look in his eyes, the one he always got when he’d had an idea that would mean he’d be in his workshop for a while and reemerge probably with some new burns and cuts.

“I’ll be back in just a moment!” he gasped, heading, of course, down towards the door that had once led to the basement that was still cold, still damp, but was now his workshop.

Vax gave a bemused little laugh, shrugging and claiming Percy’s tea for his own. That happened so often he’d started adding more sugar to Percy’s drinks, enough to suit his taste rather than his husband’s.

Of course not being able to snap his fingers and fix every problem his children collected weighed on him, just like it did for Percy. Back when the girls were very young, he stressed himself to bits over every faded smile and skinned knee and bad mark on a piece of homework. But he’d learned over time, growing as his children did. That was a comforting thought; at least they were all in it together.

And eventually, as he’d hoped, there came the padding of small feet and a red eyed little Freddy appeared in the doorway, clutching his tractor.

“Hi daddy,” he cheeped, a little sadly.

“Hello, little buddy,” Vax smiled, holding out an arm so Freddy could waddle closer and rest his head against his daddy’s knee, like he loved to do, “Feeling better?”

“Mm,” he felt a little nod, “Don’t like them, daddy.”

Vax didn’t have to ask what he meant, “I know, Freddy, I know. I’d never ask if it wasn’t really important but they really will help you. Can you be a big, brave boy for me and try to make it work?”

“Girls don’t have to,” Freddy mumbled bitterly.

“Yeah,” Vax sighed, knowing the unfairness of that would be hard to explain, “Your eyes just need a little help. Like daddy’s.”

Freddy made a frustrated little noise, “Don’t look like daddy’s. Stupid glasses.”

“Now where did you learn to curse like that, little man?” Vax had to laugh, his righteous anger was just too adorable.

Thankfully, he was saved from having to explain what curses were by Percy crashing back into the kitchen, looking a little haggard, like he’d been moving at a hundred miles an hour for a good while.

“Freddy!” the mania melted off his face when he saw his son, “Look what I made!”

Freddy looked delightedly curious, he loved to see what his papa made in his workshop, “Something for me?”

“Kind of,” Percy knelt down and smiled hopefully.

What was in his hands was what clearly used to be his spare pair of glasses. But now they looked very different. A large, thick strip of leather had been hastily attached to them with metal clasps, in place of the usual arms, sized perfectly so it would fit around Percy’s head.

In short, a perfect approximation of Freddy’s glasses, made for an adult.

Percy whipped off his usual pair and attached his new, modified ones, fitting them to his head. Vax had to swallow hard so any sobs that would very much ruin the moment stayed firmly in his throat.

Freddy’s eyes were wide and delighted, “We...we match!”

“Yeah,” Percy’s face split into a wide grin, “We match, love.”

If there was anyone who was good at finding new solutions, interesting ways around problems, it was his husband, Vax thought proudly. He felt that phantom hand on his shoulder squeeze and he smiled softly.

He didn’t have his mother anymore. But he had Percy, and that was everything.

#bailey #percildan #fluff

[everlarkingjoshifer]

A Different Way CHPT 13

Hello, my lovelies, 

I’m here with another late ass chapter of this crazy story. It’s been a busy week for me but I’m trying. LOL

First, I would like to thank @titaniasfics and @javistg for her incredible beta work. (You ladies are awesome!) To @mega-aulover @jobanana7 and my sexy Hubby for being such amazing cheerleaders and finally to @sunsetsrmydreams for her beautiful banner. 

To my loyal readers and those who have left such incredibly sweet comments, I just wanted you all to know how incredibly honored I feel and you guys are the very reason I keep writing despite all my doubts and second thinking. Without you, I wouldn’t even be in the position I’m in. So Thank you guys, thank you for your continuous love and support. Know, that I appreciate everything from the bottom of my overly anxious heart! 

If you’d like to access any other chapter, you can do so here AO3

As always, don’t forget to read, review, and reblog. Now on to the story... 

Katniss awoke to Peeta’s arm slung across her hip. They’d decided to cuddle on the sofa and ended up falling asleep. After an unsuccessful attempt to move, she instead resorted to using her free hand to shake him awake. “Peeta wake up.”

“No, not yet,” he moaned, wrapping his arm around her tighter and breathing in the scent of her hair.

“Peeta, I don’t want the kids to see us like this. We have to get up before they do,” she insisted patting him on the arm.

Blearily, Peeta raised himself from his sleep and rubbed his eyes. “Fine, I’m up.”

“Toothbrushes?” she asked covering her mouth.

Peeta pointed to a general area, “It’s in the closet with the towels.”

Katniss nodded and went to freshen up. She widened her eyes when raccoon-like prints looked back at her and groaned. this was exactly why she hated makeup so much. Turning on the faucet she tried to wipe as much of the mascara as she could. Once she was satisfied with the results she got to brushing her teeth. Hoping Peeta hadn’t noticed the disheveled mess she’d woken up as she walked out of the bathroom and said, “Should I make breakfast?”

“That would be great!” Peeta said brightening up while he folded the comforter.

The kids woke up midway through Katniss making scrambled eggs and bacon.

“So, what is it with Johanna and your sister? Are they lovers or roommates,” Peeta asked with a bite of his eggs.

Katniss choked. “Oh god, no, they’re just roommates. They’re both highly hetero.”

“What’s hetero daddy?” asked Rye, big eyes looking his way.

“It means a man and a woman like each other,” Peeta answered looking at Katniss.

“Oh, so it’s not like aunty Rue, right mommy? She likes a girl,” Willow added.

“That’s right, baby, she’s a lesbian. You get two aunties. Aunty Rue, and Tia Clove,” Katniss replied smiling. She looked over at Peeta. “Rue’s my old college roommate.”

Peeta nodded understanding. Once everyone had their tummies filled, Katniss hung out until Willow begged to go home because she missed her own clothes.

Putting on her coat, she smiled at Peeta and squeezed his hand while Willow gave Rye a quick hug goodbye before walking out of the house.

A couple of weeks passed. Katniss had never felt hornier than when around Peeta Mellark. It was as though she were a teenager all over again. She would often go over to his house while the kids were at school. Sometimes as early as dropping Willow off. Sometimes he would let her in and had what Katniss considered to be the hottest sex she’d ever experienced, and other times work took a priority leaving Katniss to settle her discomfort on her own which frustrated her to no end. Her hand could only do so much as Peeta was more than attentive and knew exactly which buttons to push.

Her work, thank God, never suffered. But when Johanna Skyped her in the middle of her little sessions Katniss grunted with frustration at not being able to finish, cursing herself for not bothering to close the stupid laptop.

“What the hell are you doing, and why are you so sweaty?” Johanna asked rummaging into a chip bag.

“I was busy if you must know,” Katniss answered hoping to avoid any more questions.

Johanna looked unconvinced as she chewed. “Doing what?”

“None of your business,” Katniss clipped.

“Ask her if she was flicking the bean,” yelled Prim off camera.

Katniss gasped and turned crimson.

“Oh my god, you were, weren’t you?” Johanna squealed.

Katniss shook her head. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Liar. I can always tell when you’re lying,” Johanna accused. She turned to call Prim who rushed by. “Your sister was flicking her bean.”

Katniss covered her face. “Oh my god, I hate you both.”

“You were?” asked Prim looking both surprised and a little grossed out.

Katniss swallowed and closed her eyes as she nodded. She could hear both girls squealing gleefully and felt herself blush even more.

“What brought on this new course of events?” asked Prim settling on a chair next to Johanna. Both women looking attentive waiting for an answer.

Katniss sighed knowing there would be no way she could keep her secret from them. They’d eventually wear her down. “I slept with Peeta.” Mortification set in as both her sister and best friend gasped and Johanna yelled a ‘fuck yes’. Katniss could picture them pumping their hands triumphantly.

Rolling her eyes she groaned, “Okay, you can stop now.”

“Hell to the no,” yelled Johanna enthusiastically. “You have so much more to explain. When did this happen and, more to the point, was he good? I betcha he was good.”

“ I really hate you,” Katniss groaned.

Johanna stuck her tongue out. “No, you don’t. You love us.”

Prim made a disgusted face. “Ew, I don’t want to know about my sister’s sex life.”

“Well then, cover your dainty ears. Wouldn’t want to affect your delicate sensibilities,” Johanna advised.

Prim stuck her tongue out.

“Why me?” Katniss whispered knowing her best friend was right.

Johanna gave off a cartoonish cackle, “Why not? You’re super hot and you can be nice when you want to be.”

Katniss gave them the middle finger as she did everything to avoid their gaze. “I’m awesome, okay? And for the record, yes he’s amazing. Come to think of it, I don’t think Gale was ever half as good as Peeta. I think this is the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Probably the ONLY good sex you’ve ever had. It doesn’t look like Gale would ever be good at any of it,” Johanna tuned in.

Katniss snorted. “How would you know that?”

Prim rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease. He’s so into himself that I suspect he’s selfish. Bet you he was more worried about his pleasure than yours.”

“Not to mention that I think he has a small dick that curves to the left and he has problems with cumming as fast as the flash runs,” Johanna chimed in.

Katniss laughed nervously. “How did you know?”

“She was right?” asked Prim scrunching up her face. “Ew.”

“What can I say, I’m a talented woman,” Johanna looked so proud of herself.  

Clearing her throat Katniss continued, “Actually, I’ve been sleeping with him for a couple of weeks now.”

Both Johanna and Prim’s eyes looked like saucers as they gasped and covered their mouths to muffle their squealing. Katniss was beginning to suspect Prim and Johanna were part dolphin, what with the frequency they emitted through the computer. It was both thrilling and annoying at the same time.

“You’re fucking that hot piece of ass and didn’t tell us right away? Oh, now I’m mad,” Johanna murmured and glared once she regained her bearings.

“Yup,” Katniss answered.

Prim looked impressed. “Not bad.”

Rolling her eyes, Katniss told them the whole story of Gale and his insensitive words. Both ladies reacted appropriately, with Johanna promising to crush his nutsack between her hands and Prim, who wasn’t one to use curse words, finally calling him a fuckface.

When she got to the part where Peeta showed her his painting and she discovered her portrait they sighed romantically.

“Don’t be such a stingy hoe and share more details already,” Johanna pouted bouncing on her chair like a spoiled five-year-old.  

“What else is there to say, though,” Katniss asked shrugging.

Prim laughed shaking her head. “You could tell us if you guys are dating. Do I get to call him my big brother now?”

“That’s the problem, we haven’t exactly established anything, and he hasn’t taken off his wedding band. I’m afraid I’m falling for a guy who feels he has to keep the memory of his wife alive as some sort of punishment to whatever he feels he’s guilty of,” Katniss said. She hesitated for a second taking a wavering breath. “I’m scared,” she whispered

“Katniss, there’s nothing to be scared of. He’s loved you forever, and I’m pretty sure he’s feeling just as insecure as you. I mean, you have to deal with Lame Gale,” Prim said looking to Johanna for assertion.

Katniss pursed her lips, “But what if he decides that having a relationship could ruin his son?”

“That won’t happen. Rye would’ve already rejected you and he hasn’t,” Johanna put in choosing to resume her chip munching.

Katniss groaned running her hand across her face. “What am I gonna do?”

“Katniss, do you love him, or even like him enough to know that you can love him?” Prim asked.

Katniss thought for a minute. “I’m not sure if what I feel for him is gratitude for helping me so much or love. Maybe it’s a combination of both, or I don’t really know.”

“Well, I suggest you figure that shit out first,” Johanna said with Prim nodding vigorously.

Katniss huffed. “Well, I guess fuck me, huh?”

Johanna wiggled her eyebrows. “More like keep fucking him! He’s delicious looking, you lucky bitch.”

Katniss snorted. “Shut up.”

#ADW chpt 13 #everlark fic #enjoy! #this was such a fun chapter to write!

[newyorktheater]

(l-r) Tony Shalhoub and Katrina Lenk in The Band’s Visit

Jitney

Sweeney Todd

Michelle Wilson and Johanna Day

For all the Broadway box office records set in 2017, the year in New York theater felt tentative, in transition, as if both theater artists and audiences were trying to figure out how to deal with the changed, and charged, political landscape. Some shows offered the escapist route, like Hello, Dolly with Bette Midler or SpongeBob SquarePants; these crowd pleasers generally didn’t please me enough to include in my top ten. Other shows went in the opposite direction, offering some form of social or political engagement. With one exception (see below), the less satisfying of these dealt directly with politics or political activism in the narrow sense (The Parisian Woman or Michael Moore’s The Terms of My Surrender) or previewed a political apocalypse (1984.) Many of my favorites of 2017 paint a realistic picture of people fighting against a sense of hopelessness; but in telling their stories, the shows paradoxically provide us with a sense of hope – and sometimes a blueprint for action. Theater at its best can function as both a place of refuge and a resource.

The choices below are personal favorites; the ranking is somewhat arbitrary.

  1. The Band’s Visit

  The plot of this delicate adaptation of an indie Israeli film by Eran Kolirin hardly seems the stuff of Broadway musicals: An Egyptian police band gets lost on its way to performing at an Arab cultural center in Israel, and winds up spending a single night in an isolated desert town; one of the best songs is “Welcome to Nowhere.” But this show, which transferred this year from Off-Broadway, hits the spot thanks to David Yazbek’s exquisite Middle Eastern score and delicious lyrics, a spot-on cast led by the incomparable Tony Shalhoub and Katrina Lenk, and a book by Itamar Moses that’s both doleful and droll. We fall in love with the characters, almost all of whom harbor an underlying sadness.

  2. Jitney

  “Jitney” was the last play to make it to Broadway from August Wilson’s celebrated 10-play American Century cycle, 11 years after his death. In Wilson’s 1979 play, which takes place in 1977 in a gypsy cab station in the Hill District of Pittsburgh, we get to know the drivers, their passengers, and their family members. Some feel trapped; some, defeated. But each has a story to tell, and a full life of faults and wisdom and talents that Wilson presents with humor and empathy.  The production directed by Ruben Santiago-Hudson, presented ensemble acting at its best.

    3.  Sweeney Todd

The Tooting Arts Club’s production of Stephen Sondheim and Hugh Wheeler’s glorious murderous musical began in 2014 in Harrington’s, one of London’s oldest working pie shops, and made the trans-Atlantic voyage intact, setting up in an impressively detailed replica of Harrington’s constructed at Barrow Street theater. I hesitate to include this Sweeney Todd in my top ten of 2017, because I loved the original cast, but made the mistake of seeing it a second time, with its current replacement cast, and didn’t love it anywhere near as much. Still, you can’t take away my memory of the first eight-member cast, especially Jeremy Secomb as Sweeney Todd, Sibohan McArthy as Mrs. Lovett and Matt Doyle as Anthony Hope, as they performed atop the tables inches from the audience, or sat alongside us on the benches

  4. Burning Doors

“Burning Doors” was Belarus Free Theatre’s latest arresting play about state-sponsored injustice, and the art of resisting it. A troupe banned in their home country, but continuing to perform there underground, Belarus Free Theatre mixes activism and artistry in a way that frankly puts to shame most American theater’s efforts at doing the same. As with their previous work, “Burning Doors” told real stories, naming names – this time including the story of the activism and repression of the Russian activist performance artists Pussy Riot, re-enacted by a prominent member of Pussy Riot, Maria Alyokhina — presented with inventive and athletic theatricality.

  5. Indecent

A behind-the-scenes look at an all-Jewish, lesbian-themed drama at the dawn of the 20th century that led to a criminal prosecution, Indecent is both a fascinating history lesson written by Pulitzer-winning Paul Vogel, and a cleverly staged entertainment directed by Rebecca Taichman.

This was in my top 10 last year as well, when it debuted Off-Broadway. It transferred to Broadway in April of this year – marking Vogel’s Broadway debut – but lasted only four months. I suspect this haunting play will live on.

6. Sweat

Like Grapes of Wrath, Lynn Nottage’s “Sweat” offers a devastating look at social and economic breakdown, told not with rants or statistics, but through a riveting tale about good people in a bad situation. The characters in “Sweat” hang out in a bar in Reading, Pennsylvania, which 2010 U.S. Census data identified as the poorest city in America.

Everything clicked for me in the Public Theater production of this play in 2016, and I listed it in the top 10 of 2016. As with Indecent, its transfer to Broadway in the Spring apparently didn’t click with the theater-buying public; it closed after some three months, even though it had won the 2017 Pulitzer Prize for Drama.

It’s worth noting that Nottage, who spent much time doing research in Reading, continues her presence in that city, developing a site-specific installation in  the abandoned Reading Railroad Station, entitled “Out/Let,” to engage the diverse and divided communities of the city in dialogue,

  7. Latin History for Morons

The ushers are wearing “Ghetto Scholar” sweatshirts in Studio 54, where for his sixth solo show John Leguizamo stands in front of a blackboard and lectures on the history, politics, culture and demographics of the 70 million Latinos in the United States. But Leguizamo is too much of an anarchic comic spirit, master mimic and candid memoirist to be merely erudite. “Latin History for Morons” exists on three planes – fascinating nuggets of actual history mixed with political commentary, eclectic comic shtick, and a funny, tender story of the performer’s efforts to connect with his family. “Latin History for Morons” suggests a potentially new and exciting direction in Leguizamo’s theatrical work.

8. A Doll’s House, Part 2

Laurie Metcal, Jayne Houdyshell, Condola Rashad, Chris Cooper in A Doll’s House, Part 2

A quartet of fine performances help elevated this play by Lucas Hnath to something more than just a sequel to Ibsen’s drama: Laurie Metcalf was the fifteenth actress since 1889 to portray Nora Helmer on Broadway, who slams the door on her husband and three children. But she was the first Nora to knock on that door 15 years later. The play is clever, and surprisingly amusing, but it is also thought-provoking: The characters’ conversations amount to a spirited and intriguing debate about the institution of marriage. Would it be a stretch to argue that, opening six months before the birth of the #metoo movement, the depiction of the unequal, unfair relationship between the sexes wound up being prescient?

9. K-Pop

Katie Lee Hill, Deborah Kim, Sun Hye Park, Julia Abueva, Cathy Ang, Susannah Kim

K-Pop was wildly (and loudly) entertaining, offering the audience a pretend-tour of a Korean pop music factory, which included mini-concerts at the beginning and the end, and energetic performances throughout, by credible and incredibly talented Korean pop stars, though wholly created (a la The Monkees) just for this show. If the dramatic scenes in K-Pop could have been better, I pick the show for my top 10 to represent the increasing number and variety of immersive theater, which has from a trend into a genre, which continues to innovate.

10.Antigone in Ferguson and Oedipus El Rey

I save these two for last, but in some ways, they are the most exciting of the theater I saw in 2017. Both productions adapted Greek tragedies written by Sophocles 2,500 years old in ways that make them more timely and relevant than almost anything else on any stage anywhere.

Oedipus El Rey was Luis Alfaro’s modern adaptation of Oedipus Rex, set in the Chicano barrio of South Central Los Angeles. It was an intense, visceral production, brutal and direct, but also graphically sensuous and oddly tender. It made a startling connection between how the Ancient Greeks viewed their fate and many Latinos view their future.

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“Antigone in Ferguson” was performed by stars of the HBO TV series “The Wire,” backed by a gospel chorus made up of residents and activists from Ferguson, Missouri, some of whom knew Michael Brown, the teenager killed by a police officer in 2014. The production was an adaptation written and produced by Bryan Doerries, the artistic director of Theater of War Productions, a theater company he launched eight years ago to use plays to help speciic audiences grapple with trauma. Originally presented in Ferguson, “Antigone in Ferguson” was presented for one night only  in basketball court in the shadow of the Howard public housing projects in Brownsville, Brooklyn, to an audience touched by violence. The conversation afterward was vibrant, intelligent and moving. It gave me a new understanding of the tragedy – and of theater.

  Top 10 New York Theater in 2017 To Be Grateful For For all the Broadway box office records set in 2017, the year in New York theater felt tentative, in transition, as if both theater artists and audiences were trying to figure out how to deal with the changed, and charged, political landscape.